


fire meet gasoline, i'm burning alive (i can barely breathe when you're here loving me)

by clarkeofthebikru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Legally Blonde AU, all your faves are alive, and pretty much everyone is in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:12:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5869006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkeofthebikru/pseuds/clarkeofthebikru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Raven have been dating for four years and just when Clarke thinks Raven's going to propose, Raven breaks up with her for Harvard Law school, where Clarke just happens to apply. She hopes for reconciliation but when she gets there, she finds Raven has a new girlfriend, Lexa, whose sole mission in life is to make Clarke miserable (or so it seems..)</p><p>or</p><p>A Clexa Legally Blonde au with a twist!</p>
            </blockquote>





	fire meet gasoline, i'm burning alive (i can barely breathe when you're here loving me)

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to follow me on tumblr @ clarkeofthebikru.tumblr.com & yell at me about this or whatever your heart may desire! :) 
> 
> the title comes from the song fire meets gasoline by sia & the chapter titles all come from songs in the musical version of legally blonde (and this is the most annoying of the chapter titles i promise)

Chapter 1: Omigod, Omigod You Guys

* * *

 

With a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, Clarke looks herself over in the dressing room mirror for what feels like the hundredth time since getting dressed. Her dress is nice, a simple off-white dress that stops just short of her knees, and it’s very flattering, but something feels off. It’s too simple, too plain, too boring. It’s something she could wear on any date.

This isn’t just any date, though.

It’s _the_ date.

Raven, who she’s been dating for what feels like forever, had just met with her grandmother who was in town for the weekend, and Clarke knows what that means: The ring. The Reyes family ring that’s been passed down from generation to generation in the Reyes family. It was a big deal to them, and to Raven as well. She supposes it should be important to her; a ring with huge diamonds and a sparkle that could probably blind someone if the sun hit it just right. That could make just about anyone’s heart flutter. Clarke, on the other hand, is much more excited about the person who’s going to be putting the ring on her finger.

She and Raven had pretty much been dating since they first met at a Delta Nu sorority mixer their freshman year. Raven wasn’t in Delta Nu, though she had considered rushing. Instead, she ended up joining an engineering sorority- Phi Sigma Rho, which Clarke had come to find was quite different from Delta Nu, but in a way that suited Raven much better than her own sorority ever could. The two continued to hang out after their initial meeting, and soon their hangouts turned into dates and their friendship turned into a relationship. It was natural and comfortable and Clarke feels so lucky to have her.

Despite both of their very active involvement in their respective sororities, they still manage to spend almost every minute they aren’t at events or in class together. It’s been four years of study sessions, parties and family vacations together and Clarke is really ready to marry Raven.

Which is why tonight has to be special. She wants the moment to look and feel just as special as she knows it is. She turns around again to look at the dress in the mirror before plopping down onto a nearby chair with a dissatisfied huff. She has barely a second to pout before a loud knock sounds from outside her dressing room.

“Clarke, are you naked?” Bellamy calls from outside the door.

“Please say you’re not, we want to see this dress!” Wells adds. Clarke smiles softly at the sound of her two best friends voices.

The three of them had been friends longer than she and Raven had, though they certainly weren’t fast friends. In fact, Clarke and Bellamy started out high school by competing against one another for class president. When Clarke won the vote, Bellamy automatically became the vice president. Wells, on the other hand, had signed up to be class treasurer on a whim, and ended up stuck as a mediator for any disagreement they had (and there were many of them). The three of them spent a _lot_ of time together planning school functions and in meetings with the principal trying to improve the school throughout their four years of high school. This led to a lot of late night phone calls and many animated meetings in Starbucks arguing about anything from event themes to which kind of toilet paper to switch to. By the end of it all, Clarke found herself with two best friends and lifelong pains in her ass.

When it came time for college, the trio didn’t all intend on going to the same school, but that’s just how things worked out. Clarke expected that they’d all maybe end up going their separate ways during college, what with the two of them being in the Sigma Chi frat and her own involvement in Delta Nu, but somehow the two managed to weasel their way into every moment she has to spare and continue to be the two most important people in her life.

Which is why, instead of the Delta Nus coming with her to find a dress for her date with Raven, Clarke asked Bellamy and Wells to come with her instead. She always felt a little less nervous when they were around. Not that she was frequently nervous, but when she was, it was nice to have them there. (Plus, Bellamy happens to have one of the best eyes for nice dresses of anyone she knows.)

Clarke turns her head towards the door. “You guys can come in, I promise I’m dressed.” She tells them, and the door opens. Bellamy slowly enters the dressing room with his hands over his eyes, which elicits an eye roll and a quiet laugh from Clarke. “Stop being so dramatic, Bellamy. I told you I was dressed didn’t I?” She asks.

“I’m just being cautious, wouldn’t want Raven dismembering me if I accidentally saw you naked or something.” He tells her. She shakes her head at him but can’t contain the smile on her face. They both know Raven wouldn’t care, and frankly neither would Clarke. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.

“You look nice.” Wells offers up, and it earns a half-hearted smile from her but nothing more.

“Thanks, but it’s feels boring. I could wear this on any date.” Clarke tells him, before walking past the two boys to look at herself in the tri-fold mirror outside of her dressing room.

“Plus, it’s a little too bride. Don’t wanna look to desperate now, do ya Griffin?” Bellamy tells her, walking up to her and giving her a gentle nudge with his elbow.

Clarke has to agree with him, wearing a white dress to her own proposal seems a little desperate. She’s looking herself over again as a saleswoman walks up to her with a fake smile on her face and a cheap dress that Clarke noticed on the sale rack earlier in her hands.

Clarke has nothing against cheap clothes, in fact she usually prefers them. Money’s no issue for her, but she likes to give back to smaller designers who are often just as talented, if not more creative than big designers. Rather, the issue she has is with salespeople assuming she’s just some girl with her parents credit card who will buy anything with a Prada label without a second glance at the price tag solely because she has blonde hair.

It’s degrading, and frankly Clarke really doesn’t have the energy to put up with it every time she goes out.

“Have you seen this one? We just got it in yesterday!” The saleswoman says as she walks up to Clarke, presenting the dress to her like it’s worth about twice as much as it is.

“Is this low-viscosity rayon?” Clarke asks, knowing fully well the woman won’t know what she’s talking about.

“Uh, yes, It is, good eye.” The woman tells her, but Clarke sees right through her lie. Sure, the dress is low-viscosity rayon, but she can tell the woman is just trying to give Clarke what she thinks she wants. Clarke, on the other hand, is a fashion student with one of the most well known celebrity stylists for a mother. She knows her shit. So, she decides to have a little fun with this woman.

“With a half-loop stitch on the hem here?” She asks, feigning curiosity and pointing to the hemming on the dress. She has the utmost confidence that the saleswoman has no idea what kind of stitching the dress has, so it’s no surprise when she watches the woman bumble through her next lie.

“Well of course!” She tells Clarke, though it’s in no way convincing, and Clarke feels a triumphant smile start to spread across her face.

“Interesting, because you can’t use a half-loop stitch on low-viscosity rayon. It’ll pull the fabric.” Clarke tells her, and the woman’s jaw drops slightly. For good measure, she adds, “And I’m positive you didn’t just get it in because I saw it in last May’s Vogue.” The woman’s face goes blank and Clarke figures she’s done her job.

The saleswoman starts to walk off and Bellamy throws a “Nice try!” her way, causing her to quicken her pace as she practically scurries away. Another saleswoman, who has clearly been watching the exchange, approaches Clarke with another dress (of course, not before she stops to give the first saleswoman a stern look). It’s one that Clarke can tell is much nicer than the previous, and something she’s never seen before.

“Clarke Griffin, right?” She asks, and Clarke nods, though she has no recollection of ever meeting this saleswoman before. “I know your mother.” Clarke nods, most people in the area know her mother. When you're a big-shot surgeon with money to spare in Los Angeles, people tend to know your name. “I thought you might like to try this dress. Practically fresh off the runway.” She tells Clarke, and she gives it a once over. It’s pink, with an empire waist and what looks to be a loose fit from waist down. She smiles and takes the dress from the woman.

“Thanks, I’ll try this on.” She tells the woman who smiles in return. Clarke walks back into the changing room where she takes off the other dress and carefully hangs it up before putting on the pink one.

Once the dress is over her head and she looks in the mirror, she knows it’s the one.

It’s essentially the same cut as the other dress, but this one is a pale pink that makes her hair look like it’s practically glowing. She sighs contentedly as the nervous feeling she was harboring leaves her body.

“I’m coming out.” She announces to Bellamy and Wells.

“You did that years ago, C.” Bellamy responds, and though it’s a tired joke she chuckles quietly at it before she opens the door to her changing room and slowly walks out. She watches as Wells’ eyes widen and a smile stretches across his face. She looks to Bellamy who remains expressionless.

“That’s the one, Griffin.” He tells her, a small but meaningful smile on his face, moving to stand to her right side and wrap an arm around her shoulder, giving her a tight squeeze before letting go again.

“It really is, Clarke. It’s perfect. You look amazing.” Wells tells her as he comes to stand to her left.

Clarke straightens out the dress and looks herself over, spinning in front of the mirror to give herself a full 360 degree view of herself. She has to admit, she looks great. The color looks beautiful on her and the dress itself is beautiful, without being over the top. She feels good in it.

“I don’t look like I expect a proposal or anything, right?” Clarke asks.

“Not at all. You just look like a girl going on a date with someone she loves.” Wells tells her. She hears Bellamy gag a little to her right and she gives him a playful nudge before walking back into the changing room.

“I’m gonna change. Meet me at the register.” She calls to them as she shuts the door.

Once she’s inside, she takes one last look in the mirror. She smiles at her reflection and her heart flutters a little when she thinks of what’s to come. Which she knows is ridiculous, but this is a big day so she lets it slide. “Perfect.” She says, and she spins around once more before walking back into her changing room to change into her clothes and buy the dress.

  
This was shaping up to be the perfect night, and Clarke could hardly contain her excitement.

* * *

 

It was nearly 8 o’clock, which meant Raven was going to be here any minute. Which meant Clarke was beyond nervous.

“Clarke, relax. It’s Raven. You guys have been together forever, a ring really isn’t gonna change anything.” Wells assures her, but his words do nothing to assuage her nerves. She nods in acknowledgement of his attempt to calm her down, but continues pacing around the foyer of her sorority house nervously.

Finally, there’s a knock on the door, and she freezes.

“She’s here!” Wells calls to her. She moves to open the door, and when she does, Raven is standing there looking as beautiful as ever in a loose royal blue dress that ripples like the ocean and even shimmers like the sun is hitting it. Clarke stands there, jaw dropped and a little in awe and Raven quirks an eyebrow at Clarke’s silence.

“Close your mouth, Griffin, or you’ll catch flies.” Bellamy mumbles from behind her, and Clarke feels her face flush as she pulls herself together.

“Hey.” She finally manages to say, and Raven laughs.

“Hey Clarke.” She says, with a quick pause before adding “You look beautiful.” Raven tells her, stepping and kissing her softly on the cheek.

“So do you.” She tells Raven, and a warm feeling fills her chest before she pulls Raven in for a quick kiss.

“Ready to go to the restaurant?” Raven asks her after she pulls back, grabbing Clarke’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Clarke nods and Raven gives her arm a quick tug and leads her out to the car.

The car ride is filled with mindless chatter about their respective weeks, with Clarke asking how Ravens family is and Raven checking in on Clarke’s unfinished designs for her portfolio. It’s natural and comfortable and everything Clarke loves about spending time with Raven.

Her nerves don’t subside once they get to the restaurant, in fact they increase tenfold. Which is why, when the bottle of champagne arrives at the table and Clarke’s glass is poured, she almost immediately downs the drink. It isn’t graceful, but she’s nervous so she could care less.

If Raven notices, she doesn’t say anything, which Clarke is grateful for (not that she thinks Raven would care at all). How Raven can be so calm all the time, Clarke really doesn’t know. Even during finals week Raven somehow manages to stay relaxed.

It doesn’t look like Raven’s going to say anything, so Clarke lifts her glass. “To us?” She suggests with a smile, and Raven clinks her glass against Clarke’s with a smile and a subtle nod towards Clarke, still saying nothing. Raven sips at her glass for a few moments, staring into it briefly as though it holds the world’s secrets, or the proposal speech she has plabbed, before putting it down and clearing her throat.

“So I asked you out tonight to talk about our future.” She says, and Clarke smiles, fully engaged in whatever Raven is going to say. “Look, what we’re doing now is- well it’s great. Things between us are amazing and all, but when I go to Harvard Law, and you know I gotta, things are gonna be more serious. ” She says. Clarke nods animatedly, nerves still bubbling in her stomach.

“Of course.” Clarke says. She doesn’t know how Raven could get more serious. She’s so serious that she goes over equations while they’re having sex and sometimes even multitasks with studying and getting Clarke off (which in no way took away from the experience at all). If Raven could be doing work while she slept, Clarke knows she would.

Raven takes another few sips of her champagne before continuing. “You know my parents- they want me to be the best. At everything, president of the sorority, straight As, all that. They expect the world from me. Well, more like they expect me to run the world. Or the country, but it’s the same thing to them. I’m gonna run for office someday.”

“You’ll be great in office, you know.” Clarke says, putting her hand over Raven’s where it rests on the table and giving it a little squeeze. Raven gives her a small smile and downs the rest of her drink.

“Clarke, look, I… I’m planning on moving up the political ladder really fast once I’m done with law school. Which means I gotta get serious now. They’re putting a lot of pressure on me to make some serious changes to my life, to drop engineering once I finish classes and switch to law immediately, that kind of stuff. I’m pretty much giving up all control on my life. I hate it, but they have my best interests at heart, you know how it is.” Raven says. Clarke’s heart rate quickens in anticipation as Raven continues. “That’s why I think that it’s the right time in our lives for us to...Uh… Clarke I think we should break up.”

Clarke’s face falls immediately, a look of shock replacing that of enamor, and she retracts her hand from where it was resting on Ravens like she’s been burned by the contact. In doing so, she accidentally elbows the bottle of champagne and knocks it over. She curses under her breath, but she leaves the bottle be. “What?” She asks incredulously, unable to quell the sinking feeling deep in her stomach. “What the fuck do you mean ‘We should break up’?”

“Look it’s just- Clarke you know I love you. You’ve been one of the biggest parts of my life so far, and I’ve loved having you in it.” She tells Clarke with what seems to be a genuine smile. She adds, “But my parents- they’re crazy. My grandma even more so. They keep insisting on changing every little piece of my life to suit my future, and it’s a future I really do want so-”

“So what you’re saying is your parents don’t think I’m enough for your future. And it’s not a problem of me not being a guy, we all know that. So what is it?” Clarke asks, anger building inside her. “Am I not rich enough? Or high-brow enough? Is it the fact that I’m in fashion design?” Raven says nothing but her expression is enough to say she’s on the right track. “Well that’s bullshit. My mother and I may not be lawyers, but she is one of the best surgeons in the country, and I’m on my way to having my own design label. I hardly call that low brow. We live in Bel-Air, so I’d say money’s not really much of an issue either. I can’t believe I thought you were going to propose... But if you think we should break up, if you think that’s really what’s best for you, then fine. I hope you have fun getting off in the Oval Office alone.” Clarke tells her, before standing up to leave. She takes out her phone and calls Bellamy to pick her up, because there’s no way she’s driving home the awkward 20 minutes with Raven.

Suffice it to say this evening did _not_ turn out the way she expected it to.

* * *

 

It’s been a week, and Clarke thinks she’s on the mend. There had initially been a fair amount of crying, as well as a few wine and whine nights, but she’s starting to feel less like she’s been totally crushed. It’s more a dull sadness that’s always there; In the back of her mind and in her bones. It’s in the different shades of blue in the sky and the wind that blows through the trees. It’s in the pillowcase that still smells like Raven’s perfume and the t-shirt she can’t bring herself to return. It’s everywhere but at least she can breathe again.

Something that’s remained constant is her anger. She’s can’t move past the fact that Raven’s parents didn’t think she was good enough for her all because she’s not trying to join the political circle anytime soon. It’s not like she was a party girl, or a reality star wannabe or something. Clarke was a serious artist. She had a 4.0 average, even if it wasn’t in engineering like Raven or even in the medical field like her mother, it was still pretty damn impressive. She doesn’t know whether to direct her anger at Raven, her parents or both, so she lets it stew inside herself day after day.

It’s been a week and still she can’t help herself from sitting on her bed surrounded by pictures of herself and Raven spread out on the bedspread. Her favorite is the one from Delta Nu’s most recent formal. Clarke is smiling widely at the camera wearing a floor length dress that’s a shade of pink so light it’s practically beige and Raven is standing next to her wearing a suit and looking at her with some level of love that she probably would never have admitted to, but Clarke knew she felt. It’s a cheesy photo and she knows it, but that doesn’t make her love the moment any less. There are about a dozen other photos, each as beautiful and heartbreaking as the last.

She’s caught up in looking through photos when she hears a quiet knock from outside her door followed by Wells’ voice. “Clarke, it’s Bellamy and me. Can we come in?” He asks. Clarke makes some kind of grunt that’s vaguely encouraging and Wells and Bellamy come into her room

“Hey Griffin. Nice to see you showered, we were worried about you.” Bellamy tells her, sitting down on the bed next to her and putting down the bag in his hands.

“Yeah well I spilled red wine on myself at dinner, so I figured it was about time.” She admits, eliciting a chuckle from Wells.

“That sounds about right.” He says with a smile, looking down at the bed. “Clarke, why are you still doing this to yourself?” He asks, picking up one of the pictures and looking at it.

Clarke sits silently for a moment, taking a quick look at each photo before looking up at Wells. “I miss her. We were dating for four years, and I really loved her. I really thought we were gonna get married.  And now she’s gone. And it sucks, and I miss her.” She tells him. She swallows the lump in her throat, because really she _is_ done crying about the breakup.

“Anyways, we brought you a couple magazines, we know how they always make you feel better.” Bellamy says, reaching for the bag next to Clarke’s bed and pulling out a stack of magazines as Wells comes to sit on Clarke’s other side. “So we have Town & Country, Elle magazine and _of course_ Vogue.” He says, offering her the three to look through. Clarke grabs Town  & Country, figuring it’ll be nice to see some beautiful people in their beautiful homes living their beautiful lives. She opens the magazine, and because she’s feeling particularly masochistic, she flips to the engagements section. As she looks through them all, she lets out a loud gasp.

“What is it?” Wells asks, voice full of concern, which Bellamy’s body language echoes..

“It’s just, Raven’s older sister. She just got engaged to this guy…” She says, showing them the magazine which is open to a photo of a woman who is essentially an older version of Raven and a preppy but plain looking guy standing next to each other before continuing. “The description says ‘Yale Law graduate Kendra Reyes, associate at Ton DC Law Firm and her fiancé Evan Daniels III, third year Yale Law.’ This is the kind of person the Reyes family approves of? And they think he’s better than me somehow. Well he’s not. He’s a boring looking guy with two years of law school behind him and not much else in his life.” Clarke says, and she continues to stare at the picture for a bit longer, staring at Ravens sister’s fiancé, trying desperately to understand the appeal before it hits her. “I have an idea.” She says, and Bellamy raises an eyebrow curiously.

“What’s that?” He asks.

“I’m going to Harvard.” She states as if it’s just as simple as that.

“You do know it’s one of the hardest schools in the country to get into, right? I know you have a 4.0 GPA, and as great as that is, it is in fashion design. You’d still have to get, like, a 175 on the LSATs and write a damn good college essay, and really fantastic recommendations…” Wells trails off, and Clarke can tell he doesn’t think she can do it.

“You don’t think I can do it?” She asks with a slight raise of her eyebrow, and Wells just kind of shrugs. “What about you?” She asks, turning towards Bellamy and fixing him with a steely glare.

“All I know is I didn’t get into Harvard, and I’m kinda a genius.” He tells her, and she frowns. “But..” He continues, “I know if you’re gonna do it, you’ll need some help.” With that Clarke’s face lights up with a smile. “I’ll help you with your essay, and Wells here can help you study for the LSATs. What do you think?” He asks.

“I think I should start packing my bags now, because I’m going to Harvard!” Clarke says, with excitement, throwing her arms around Bellamy and Wells with a smile.

Clarke knows nothing is certain other than the fact that she sure is in for one _hell_ of a spring semester.

* * *

 

Being gay in a powerful political family has never been pleasant for Lexa. In fact, it’s far from it. Especially when she has to attend one of her parents’ social gatherings.

Whether it’s constant scrutiny from her parents’ conservative friends or the ignorant line of questioning about her lack of a male escort to events, Lexa always feels like she’s on the verge of snapping and taking the sword from atop her father’s desk and driving it through the chests of anyone cretinous to engage her in even the most mildly homophobic of conversations.

Her parents themselves were conservative, but rather than ruining their reputation as a picture perfect family, they chose to embrace her sexuality. It’s the loosest interpretation of embrace Lexa can surmise, but she supposes it’s something so she never questions it.

On this particular night, her parents are actually celebrating her own accomplishments.

More specifically, her acceptance to Stanford Law, Harvard Law and Yale Law school. She doesn’t often see her parents talk about her, in fact she can hardly remember the last time they had a conversation that wasn’t about themselves in months, but tonight they are only talking about her.

She can’t say it makes her feel warm inside, nothing that her parents ever say does, but it gives her some level of satisfaction to know that for once she’s done something they have some degree of pride in talking about.

It’s even more satisfying knowing that she’s done something neither of her parents could do. They had both applied to all three Law schools, but only were accepted at Yale, where they studied, met and fell in love.

Lexa knows she’ll choose Harvard. Though it’s not the best of the three, it’s been her dream for longer than she can remember and she’d be remisced if she didn’t attend school there.

So, Lexa revels in the attention for now, knowing that her decision to go to the school that is neither first nor second, but ranked third of her options will surely disappoint them yet again.

Lexa is carefully avoiding as many conversations as she can tonight, knowing they are likely to be filled with small talk and feigned interest in her success.

She’s standing at the refreshments table pouring herself a glass of champagne when someone catches her.

“Pretty dull party, huh.” The voice says, and Lexa turns around to find herself with none other than one of her only friends from boarding school in California, Raven Reyes.

“Raven, hello.” Lexa says, and Raven smiles.

“Jeez, Lex, you sound just as boring as the day I met you.” Raven says, and really, Lexa has missed her friend.

“You know me, this is about as excited as I get.” Lexa responds, eliciting a chuckle from Raven.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Raven says with a sly look at Lexa, and she flushes a deep shade of red.

It’s true. She and Raven went to an all-girls boarding school where they were roommates for four years. Lexa had been fairly forward in letting Raven know about her sexuality early on, and Raven had been pretty clear she had no problem with it.

It ended up being the opposite of a problem, really, as the two of them dated for their final two years at boarding school together. They split amicably at the end of college with promises to keep in touch and visit often. Neither had happened, though, and Lexa had hardly thought about her since then.

“So, how ‘bout we go upstairs and I fuck you into the mattress for old times sake?” Raven suggests, and Lexa nearly drops the glass in her hand.

“You can’t be serious, Raven. This is my own party!” Lexa says, gesturing to the slightly ridiculous portrait of her face that is propped up on a stand by the doorway.

“Lexa, don’t be ridiculous, come on. We both know this party’s for your parents to brag to their friends about how much of a genius their daughter is. If it was for you, you’d have friends here or something like that.” There’s a moment of silence, and Lexa sighs. She knows Raven is right. This party is just an excuse for her parents to try and get people to forget about her being gay and to show her off as their genius daughter. “I mean, assuming you have friends. You do have friends, right?” Raven asks, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes, of course I have friends.” Lexa retorts.

“Good.” Raven says with a smile. “So, wanna see if you can come without screaming for once or would you prefer to stay here and make small talk with this room full of expired meat?” Raven asks, and with a roll of her eyes she grabs Raven by the arm and they try and quietly make their way upstairs.

(For once Lexa’s thankful for the dull roar of political debate when it covers the sounds of Raven giving her the best orgasm she’s had in months from upstairs.)

* * *

 

The spring semester goes by faster than Clarke ever expected. Between studying endlessly for the LSATs, maintaining her 4.0 GPA, and writing her personal essay, Clarke nearly forgot to call her parents to tell them she wants to go to law school. At Harvard.

It’s an interesting conversation, but Clarke’s mom really has no reason to say no to her. If past experiences meant anything to Abby, she knew that saying no to Clarke really has no bearing over the outcome of whatever it was Clarke wants to do. She talks to her dad for all of 10 seconds before her offers up total support of her law school endeavor. Her parents agree to pay for law school if she gets in. She thanks her mom by promising to defend her if she ever gets into trouble, and makes sure to tell her dad that no matter where she lives, the West Coast will always be her home. She tells her parents she loves them and goes to meet Bellamy at the library to work on her personal essay.

Clarke’s essay is about her history as a leader, both in high school and in college with Delta Nu and Bellamy sits with her through countless drafts and helps her weed out things that Harvard won’t care about. It’s full of every ounce of passion Clarke has, and she has to say she’s never been more proud of something she wrote. It captures all her strengths while noting she has flaws and she really thinks she might have a chance at getting into Harvard with it.

When she lets Bellamy read her final draft, it’s the longest seven minutes of her life. His face remains unchanged the whole time he reads it, but once he’s finished, he gives her a smile teeming with pride and Clarke has to hold back tears as he pulls her into a bear hug that nearly forces all air out of her.

She’s only seen him smile like that a handful of times, and each time it’s been at his sister, Octavia.

Knowing that she’s at the receiving end of that smile feels like home. Knowing she’s made a home here just makes it that much harder to imagine leaving in the fall.

* * *

 

One night, a month into her spring semester, Clarke sees Raven at a Sigma Chi event and she cries for the first time since the week after their break up.

She doesn’t mean to, but she’s drunk and Raven couldn’t even look at her, and she doesn’t want it to hurt but it does.

Suddenly the dull ache is gone and it’s like she’s walked directly into a wall.

It hurts and it hurts and it hurts.

She runs out of the frat house almost immediately after she sees her and throws up in a bush.

She doesn’t have a second to feel embarrassed about that before she starts crying and sinks to her knees.

Before she knows it, Bellamy and Wells are by her side and bringing her home.

She lies in bed, her head spinning and her chest aching and all she can see is her face.

She cries herself to sleep.

(In the morning she’ll pretend it didn’t happen, but it did.

It hurts and it hurts and it hurts.)

* * *

As the spring semester starts coming to a close, all that’s left after months of hard work is taking (and getting a 175 or higher on) her LSATs.

Clarke got a 176 on the practice test Wells had given her at their last study session. Clarke’s excitement, however, had paled in comparison to Wells’. She’s never seen him so giddy, and she was with him when Spain won the world cup in 2010 when he had nearly cried with pride for his favorite team.

The LSATs themselves are a daunting task, but after all of Wells’ study help, she has a good feeling about them.

It takes her completely by surprise, however, her when she takes the LSATs and actually feels good afterwards.

It surprises her even more when she exceeds the 175 she needs on the LSAT and gets a 179.

Needless to say there’s a _lot_ of celebration in the Delta Nu house that evening (and that she doesn’t remember most of it).

Then comes the brutal wait for an answer from admissions at Harvard.

It’s two weeks before she hears anything at all.

When her letter _finally_ comes, she waits until both Bellamy and Wells can be with her before opening it. They’ve been with her since the start and Clarke can’t even imagine them not being next to her when she reads the letter.

When the time comes, the three of them are all sitting on Clarke’s bed like they were the day she decided to go to Harvard, the anticipation higher than the three of them had ever felt. It takes Clarke somewhere around five minutes to get up the courage to open the letter, and once she does, excitement washes over her as she reads that she’s been accepted. That night, Bellamy, Wells and Clarke all go out to dinner, drink copious amounts of champagne and talk about all the great memories they’ve had together, from high school to these past few weeks.

It’s gross and sappy and Clarke can’t help but think about how weird it’ll be to live on the opposite side of the country from her two friends who mean as much to her as her own family does. How she won’t be able to just drive over to their apartment whenever she needs help, or go out drinking with them after a long week at school. She knows they’re only a phone call away and that she really has nothing to worry about, but a part of her feels like she’s giving up so much for Harvard.

She really hopes it’s worth it.

* * *

 

The alarm on her phone rings at exactly 7 a.m., a time she’s entirely unused to, but she supposes that’s the way people do things at Harvard Law, and since it is her first day, she figures she’d better be up and ready for the day at what could be considered a “sensible time”. Her classes don’t start until 9:30, but there’s a welcome breakfast at 8:30 for all new law students where she thinks maybe she’ll catch a glimpse of Raven, so she decides to go.

She’s lucky enough to be living in the dorms at the law school so she doesn’t have to worry about it taking her long to get anywhere. She would have rented an apartment in the area, but she figures it’ll be easier if she’s in close proximity to the school. Plus, she likes the hustle and bustle of living in a dorm. It reminds her of the Delta Nu sorority house. Always something going on, or people to talk to, even if she hasn’t found any yet. It’s nice to never truly be faced with silence like she’s sure she would be if she were living alone.

It’s not as big as her room at Delta Nu but it works. It has a nice view of the quad, which is a very different shade of green than the one at UCLA. The grass there was less lush and looked like it was spray painted some unnatural shade of green. The grass here is a deep, earthy green and littered with leaves that are just starting to turn. It’s something new for her, fall in New England. It’s prettier than fall in LA, which is just really an extended summer with more lattes. She enjoys the new view for a short moment before she goes through the motions of her morning.

She applies a reasonable amount of makeup, just enough to cover up the dark circles she has from staying up late the previous night, really. She was reasonably nervous about today last night, and it kept her awake much later than she wanted.

As she gets dressed, she tries not to devote too many of her thoughts to Raven and the likelihood of running into her today.

 _Tries_ being the operative word.

* * *

 

It’s brisk outside as Lexa heads to her first class of the day at Harvard Law, which inspires her to take a detour to stop at her favorite coffee cart on her way to class. It’s only late September but it’s already cooling off from the summer, which Lexa was eternally grateful for. Summers are too hot for Lexa’s taste. Between constantly sweating and being forced to take vacations to Martha’s Vineyard, Lexa couldn’t stand summer. She much prefers being in classes or working- doing something really substantial with her time.

Harvard Law has been her dream for as long as she can remember, and now it’s finally her reality. Years worth of internships with law professors, countless hours spent in mock trial and a constant drive for perfection have finally paid off.

Despite her parents’ initial disappointment that she chose Harvard over Stanford or Yale, they ended up being surprisingly supportive of her choice.

Seeing as it’s the first day, Lexa decides it makes sense to get to class early so she can get a good seat in her first class.

She’d been told her professor, Professor Indra Athdara (though, Lexa knows she chooses to go by her first name for whatever strange or unprofessional reason) pays more attention to the students in the first two rows, so she wants to make sure she’s one of those students.

The boy at the coffee cart, who Lexa knows to be named Teddy, calls out her name and she takes the coffee with a smile and she tosses a $5 bill into the tip jar before continuing on her way to class.

She knows there’s some kind of mixer happening in one of the law buildings, and even though she could stop in and have plenty of time to get to class, she forgoes it and makes a beeline for Hauser where Professor Indra’s class is. It’s a quick walk but Lexa’s thankful for the mild change in temperature once she enters the building.

Once inside, she stops and notes that it’s much nicer to be inside Hauser as a student, and not just some intern bringing coffee to a professor before organizing their files for them. It feels bigger, more full of opportunity and excitement. Something inside Lexa ignites while she stands in the lobby of the bustling building, and she knows she’s made the right choice.

Her peaceful moment is interrupted, however, when someone crashes right into her, causing some of her coffee to spill onto her hand. She turns on her heel instantly, flicking the coffee from her hand and onto the ground as she does, to find herself face to face with a (very pretty) blonde, who looks to be her own age, wearing a pink sweater that’s more an eyesore than anything else.

“Oh god, I am so sorry! I didn’t even see you!” The girl apologizes, and Lexa rolls her eyes, looking her over. The girl is painfully out of place here, in a short skirt that’s entirely inappropriate for law school and a slightly obnoxious pink sweater she looks like she got lost on the way to her sorority at a state school and somehow ended up at Harvard.

“Too busy texting your pals to pay attention to where you’re walking, I assume.” Lexa says with a roll of her eyes, and Lexa sees something ignite in the girl.

“Actually, I was looking at a campus map on my phone.” She says with indignance, narrowing her eyes to glare at Lexa.

“Right. Well, they usually have tour guides for that.” Lexa tells her with a faux-smile, and this sets the girl off.

“Since you seem to know so much about this school, can you tell me where I can find Civil Procedures with Professor Athdara?” The girl asks, and Lexa can’t hide the way her jaw drops.

“You’re in Civil Procedures?” Lexa asks in bewilderment, and the girl nods. Lexa is in complete shock. Somehow this girl, who Lexa could already tell would be a pain in her ass, was not only in law school with her, but also in her first class.

“Are you gonna tell me where the class is or just keep staring at me until your eyes fall out of your head? I really don’t have time to stand her and watch you try to subtly check me out, sadly.” The girl says, and now it’s Lexa’s turn to be pissed.

“I’m not checking you out. Just… Looking at your outfit. All that pink you’re wearing- is that even legal?” Lexa asks, and the girl seems to bite back a laugh.

“That has to be the worst insult I have ever heard.” The girl says with a small snort. “Well, judging by your reaction, I’ll be seeing you in class. Or, more likely you’ll be seeing me. I’ll go ahead and ask someone else for directions, since clearly you need a moment to compose yourself. Have a nice day.” The girl says, walking past her before Lexa has a chance to form a response.

She knows now that she’ll have to scratch everything she expected to come out of her law school experience.

(Hopefully next time she’s forced to interact with this girl she has a bit more composure.)

She hurries off towards class, trying to push that interaction to the depths of her mind and focusing on leaving her professor with a good first impression.

When Lexa gets to Professor Indra’s class, however, she finds that the girl from earlier is sitting in the front row, a tiny bit off center.

Lexa’s never been one to sit in the front row, it’s always made her slightly uncomfortable having that much contact with her professors. She has to admit, this girl has a certain tenacity about her that is completely unexpected.

Lexa finds a seat in the second row, if only to put a small margin of distance between herself and Professor Indra, which unfortunately leaves her with Malibu Barbie in her line of sight for the duration of this class.

She takes out her laptop as more and more students start to file in, opening up a blank word document so she’s ready to start taking notes as soon as Professor Indra arrives. She takes out her phone to quickly check for any messages before class. Unsurprisingly, there are no messages or notifications of any kind. She puts her phone away just in time to see Professor Indra cross the front of the lecture hall to stand behind the podium.

“Good morning. Welcome to Civil Procedures. I’m professor Indra Athdara. I’d prefer if you address me solely by Professor Indra.” Indra addresses the class, and it’s with such finality that Lexa knows no person in the room would even consider asking her why she chooses to drop her last name.

“Now.” She continues, holding up a clipboard with a piece of paper attached. “This is a seating chart. I’m going to pass it around and you will all fill your names into the seats you are in. The seats you’ve chosen will be yours for the semester, so to those of you in the first row, good luck.” She notes, handing the clipboard to a boy in the first row, and Lexa sees her give the girl from earlier a quick look before returning to her podium, and it’s by no means friendly. “This semester, and throughout your time at Harvard Law, you will be introduced to a new world, one with which I am certain none of you are familiar. I hope you are all ready to question everything you know about the world in which we live. My policies are strict, and outlined in the syllabus online. I won’t waste time in going over it now, but I strongly suggest you all read it thoroughly before next class.”

Indra pauses to give the classroom a once-over, and the silence in the room is so cutting that Lexa can hear the collective breathing of all her peers. She’s handed the clipboard and quickly fills her name into her spot before passing it on, and waiting patiently for Indra to speak.

“‘The law is reason free from passion.’ Who said this?” Professor Indra asks, and for a moment, not a single person moves. Then, slowly, Lexa sees a quiet looking girl raise her hand out of the corner of her eye, and suddenly all eyes are on her. Indra nods at the girl and she stands and speaks.

“Aristotle.” She says, though it seems like more of a question than an answer as it’s delivered with almost no conviction whatsoever.

“You don’t sound confident in your answer.” Indra observes, and the girl deflates slightly. “Was it Aristotle or not, and be confident in your choice.” She tells her. The girl swallows before speaking.

“It was Aristotle.” She says, this time with some degree of certainty, and Indra’s face remains expressionless.

“Interesting. Are you so sure of this that you’d be willing to stake your spot at this school on it?” She asks her.

“I suppose…” The girl tells her, and the ounce of courage she had has vanished.

“What about the two classmates to your left. Would you risk their spots as well, or are you suddenly not confident in your decision once again?” She poses, and the girl quickly regards the two people to her left, two very average looking boys, before looking to Indra again.

“I’m… Not sure.” She says, and Indra tuts at her.

“In the future, I would recommend being more sure of your answer before responding. First and foremost, a lawyer must have confidence in their own knowledge. This is a high stakes profession, after all.” Indra tells him, and the girl shrinks back into her chair. Lexa knows that, were it possible, the girl would find a way to disappear altogether in lieu of remaining in class. “If you were curious, she was correct. It was Aristotle.” Indra tells the class, and a few of her classmates laugh uncomfortably before one student approaches Indra with the seating chart. She nods a thank you at him, before continuing.

“I assume you all did our assigned reading. Who can tell me about Gordon v. Steele?” Indra asks, but her question is met with total silence. She quirks an eyebrow and looks down at the seating chart on the podium in front of her.

“Clarke Griffin?” Indra says, and Lexa watches as the girl from earlier’s head snaps up. The girl, Clarke, briefly scrambles with her notebook before clearing her throat to speak as she stands.

“I’m sorry, but… I wasn’t aware we had an assignment to do.” Clarke says and Lexa stifles a laugh at the girl’s misfortune. A tiny part of her feels bad for the girl, imagining what it would be like to have to go up against Indra unprepared, but that feeling is overpowered by the memory of Clarke crashing into her earlier and causing her unnecessary strife. 

Indra’s face doesn’t change in the least as she looks down to her seating chart once again before calling out, “Lexa Woods.”

Lexa immediately stands, perfect posture and head held high like she’s always been taught. Indra steps out from behind her podium to walk a few steps closer to the front row where Clarke still stands. Clarke turns and looks at Lexa and moves to sit, but Indra stops her.

“Ms. Woods, can you tell me about the case from our reading?” Indra asks, and Lexa nods.

“In the case of Gordon v. Steele, Gordon sued her doctors for medical malpractice.” Lexa tells her, and Indra nods.

“Good. Now, Ms. Woods, do you think it appropriate that your classmate is unprepared for today’s class?” Indra asks. Clarke looks at her, eyes wide and pleading. It’s almost sad enough to make Lexa feel bad.

“No, I don’t.” Lexa says, and there are a few subtle gasps around her. Indra raises her eyebrows, but continues her line of questioning.

“So, you would support my decision to ask her to leave class, then?” Indra asks.

“Most certainly.” Lexa confirms with a nod, and Clarke looks back at her with some level of hurt in her eyes. Lexa averts her eyes, knowing that if she makes eye contact, she’ll have to acknowledge the feeling of discomfort nagging at the pit of her stomach.

“Well, you heard your classmate Ms. Griffin. Pack your things and go. I advise you not to return to my class until you are prepared to be here.” Indra says, turning to walk behind her podium again. “Thank you, Ms. Woods, you may sit down.” Indra tells her, and she does as she’s told. Once she sits, she watches as Clarke grabs her things and hurries out of the classroom, gaze fixed on the ground in front of her as she does.

(If Lexa feels guilty watching her, she certainly won’t acknowledge it.)

* * *

Clarke is dumbfounded.

Sure, not being prepared for her class is pretty dumb, and she would get it if her teacher was pissed, but kicking her out of class?

That seems a little extreme to her. Not to mention that Lexa girl basically telling Professor Indra to kick her out. Definitely not how she expected her first day to go.

Once she’s out of Hauser, she walks around the quad until she finds an open bench, it’s under the trees and facing away from the path so she thinks maybe no one will see her if they walk by.

Her first instinct is to call Bellamy or Wells, but she knows they have classes today too and doesn’t want to bother them too much. She knows they love her and would drop what they’re doing to hear her rant about what happened in class, but she thinks maybe she should try and deal with it on her own first. Something about knowing the two of them are so far away makes her feel suddenly so out of place. She’s been trying to ignore how utterly displaced she is but now that she’s alone in the middle of the Harvard Law School campus on the verge of tears because some stuck-up law student cares about nothing but her own well-being, she can’t help but miss UCLA.

UCLA with her sorority full of wonderful and supportive friends. With its sunshine and proximity to home. Always alive and bustling with people looking to make friends, full of laughter and a constant vibrancy. There was something so welcoming about her world there that just didn’t carry over into her life here.

Here she's alone. She lives in a dorm full of people, sure, but they aren’t _her_ people. Law students walk briskly around the campus, refusing to acknowledge each other, as though stopping to socialize might put their entire lives work in jeopardy. It’s a different world here and Clarke’s not sure how she fits into it.

Clarke notices that she’s started crying and tries to stop her tears. She doesn’t want to be the girl everyone walks past on the first day of class who is sitting on a park bench alone and crying, but somehow that’s who she is right now. Her tears are angry and the tracks they leave on her cheeks burn like the fire forming somewhere deep in her chest that fuels her indignation. If there’s one thing Clarke refuses to be, it’s humiliated. That’s why she was so determined to get into Harvard, and what’s now going to drive her to prove to everyone in her class, especially her professor and that (annoyingly attractive and smug) girl Lexa, that she deserves to be here as much as anyone else.

She must look pretty pathetic crying alone in the middle of campus, because the next thing she knows, there’s someone tapping her gently on the shoulder and clearing their throat.

“Not to intrude, but is everything alright?” She hears someone ask, and Clarke wipes the tears off her face with the sleeves of her sweater before turning to face him. He’s a very attractive guy, tall and muscular, the kind of guy Clarke tends to associate with being very fratty, and dressed in a very nice suit for a student.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I got kicked out of my first class because I didn’t know the answer to a question, so I suppose the day could be going better.” She tells him, and he gives her a sympathetic look before he moves around the bench to sit next to her.

“Sounds like a rough first day. Which professor was it?” He asks, and Clarke’s surprised at the kindness of this guy as compared to other students she’s interacted with so far at school. It’s a nice change of pace, and more than welcome.

“Professor Athdara.” She tells him, and an understanding smile finds its way onto his face.

“Of course, Indra. I should have known.” He says, and Clarke raises her eyebrow at him curiously, and he seems to take it upon himself to explain his understanding. “I was in Indra’s class my first year too, and although she never kicked me out, she did make me sit in a seat at the front of the classroom facing everyone else once when I spoke out against her. She is terrifying, but a great professor.” He tells her, and although his story is certainly on par with hers in terms of embarrassment, it doesn’t do much to make her feel less horrible about what happened. “I’m Lincoln, by the way.” He tells her with a smile, extending his hand towards her.

“Clarke.” She says, taking his hand and shaking it, noting that it’s somehow soft and strong all at once. She lets go and decides to try and engage in this kind of healthy human contact for as long as she can, figuring she won’t get too much of it here. “Any other advice you can throw my way?” She asks him, and he smiles.

“Depends. Who else do you have for professors?” He asks, and she opens her bag to pull out a notebook with her schedule.

“I have Professor Kane, Professor Tsing and Professor Wallace.” Clarke tells him, and he nods, taking in what she’s said.

“Well, make sure to participate in Professor Kane’s class, he always takes note of who’s offering up ideas and answers and tends to boost their grades, which is nice. Professor Tsing always has pop quizzes on the third Thursday of every month so make sure you’ve done the readings by then. As far as Professor Wallace goes, he picks students at the end of the year to be interns at his law firm, so do whatever you can to get in his good graces and make sure you’re keeping your grade up there. That’s one opportunity you don’t want to miss out on. Oh, and never take out your phone in his class. He once caught someone texting and threw their phone out of a third story window. Wasn’t a pretty sight.” Lincoln tells her and she laughs a little, which feels so nice in comparison to the pure anger she was feeling earlier.

“How many years have you been in law school?” Clarke asks.

“I’m a third year now.” He tells her. Clarke nods and begins wracking her brain for more questions to ask when she hears something she’s entirely unprepared for.

“No fucking way.” A voice says from behind her, and she doesn’t even have to turn around to know it’s Raven.

She takes a deep breath and turns around with a smile on her face.

“Hi Raven.” She says cheerfully, and Raven stands on the pathway, frozen in shock and staring at Clarke. A nervous feeling settles in Clarke’s stomach as she looks at Raven. She looks... Different. Where at UCLA, Raven would wear whatever made her comfortable, not caring about how she looked at all, here she wears a designer blazer and dress pants. Her hair is in a tight braid, which is a stark contrast to her usual ponytail. Her face somehow looks more worn, as though living this life has already begun to take a toll on the light that shone so brightly in her at home. There’s a palpable tension, which Lincoln sems to notice as he clears his throat from beside her.

“It was nice talking to you Clarke, I’m sure I’ll catch up with you later.” Lincoln says, standing up to leave.

“Thanks for all the help, Lincoln!” She replies with a genuine smile, which he returns as he walks away.

“What are you doing here, Clarke?” Raven asks, walking slowly towards Clarke, and she has to admit, she thought Raven would be a little more excited to see her.

“I go here now.” Clarke tells her, and another wave of shock washes over Ravens face when she does.

“You got into Harvard Law?” Raven asks, a look utter disbelief etched on her face.

“What, like it’s hard?” Clarke deadpans. Raven laughs, and _god_ how she’s missed that laugh. It’s breathy and melodic and the only thing Clarke has wanted to hear for months and now that she’s finally hearing it, everything feels like it’s falling into place again. Hearing that laugh is enough to make her feel like she’s falling in love with Raven all over again. Hell, maybe she is.

“Seriously, Clarke, why are you here?” Raven asks. Clarke shrugs. She realizes it probably _is_ a little weird that she’s here at Raven’s school. In fact, it’s very weird. She moved across the country to go to school where her ex-girlfriend goes just to prove that she’s worth more than she may seem. That she’s not a joke, and that she really does have academic prowess. She’s about to answer when Raven’s phone goes off. Raven pulls the phone out of her pocket and mumbles an apology to Clarke as she types out a quick text on her phone before putting it back in her pocket.

“Raven!” She hears a voice call, and Raven’s head turns towards the sound. Clarke looks past Raven to see none other than her nightmare of a classmate, Lexa standing on the sidewalk a little ways down.

Raven waves Lexa over, and Clarke feels anger building inside of her like a fire with every step Lexa takes towards them. Lexa’s expression remains neutral as she approaches the two of them, Raven still turned around to face her. When she gets to them, Clarke watches in complete shock and horror as Lexa gives Raven a quick kiss and a mumbled greeting before the two of them turn to face her.

Clarke knows she can’t burst into flames, but she knows that if she could, now would be the perfect time.

“Lexa, this is an old friend of mine, Clarke. And Clarke, this is Lexa, uh, my fiancé.” Raven says, and it takes everything in Clarke not to laugh. There’s no way that Raven is _engaged_ to this girl. The one who has already made it her job to ruin Clarke’s life and cause her constant strife. This can _not_ be real.

“When Raven says “old friend” what she means is ex-girlfriend. And, we’ve met.” Clarke says, looking from Lexa to Raven, and Raven quirks an eyebrow at Clarke’s less than friendly tone. “I got kicked out of class because of her.”

“You were kicked out of class because you were unprepared.” Lexa responds, and Clarke’s nostrils flare as she fixes Lexa with a glare. Raven clears her throat, and Clarke switches her attention to Raven.

“Well, as nice as this is, Lexa and I have to be going. We have class in 10.” Raven says, and Lexa snakes a hand around Raven’s arm, and Clarke catches a glimpse of her ring. It’s _the ring._ The Reyes family ring. It’s beautiful, there’s absolutely no denying it, but something about seeing it on Lexa’s finger is so ugly that Clarke has to look away. “It was nice seeing you, Clarke. Let’s get coffee and catch up soon.” Raven tells her, and it’s genuine, so Clarke knows Raven will follow through.

“Sounds great.” Clarke says with a small smile. Raven returns her smile and waves goodbye before she and Lexa turn around and walk off.

Clarke stands there, watching Raven walk away from her, another girl on her arm, for a few moments before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

She doesn’t know where she’s going (and she’s learned her lesson about trying to use a map to navigate around campus) but she knows that wherever she goes she needs to be far, far away from Raven and her horrible shrew of a girlfriend.

With every step she takes, she feels the heartbreak sink deeper into her bones, but this time she doesn’t let herself cry.

Clarke Griffin will not be humiliated.

Not by Lexa, not by Raven, not by anyone.

A fire is burning somewhere inside her.

(She just hopes it doesn’t consume her.)


End file.
